Red Team Adventure
by Glynoyri
Summary: Red Team has a problem! I mean, only one team can lose something at a given time, right?


"Do you ever wonder why we're here," Simmons asked, standing on top of the base.

"Not really," Grif mumbled from next to him, "Feels more like we're living inside some sort of comedy show run by people who play a lot of video games."

"What makes you say that," Simmons questioned.

"Maybe all the floating cameras," Grif said, pointing at the camera.

"Don't be absurd, Grif," Simmons argued, "Those have always been on this planet."

"Oh yeah? So why do they have red lights that only blink when they're following us around," Grif questioned.

"I told you, they're some sort of ancient tech," Simmons sighed, "They're probably just scanning us or something."

"Whatever," Grif huffed. Donut suddenly rushed up to them, shaking.

"Done cleaning already," Simmons asked, incredulous.

"You better not have 're-decorated' my space again," Grif growled.

"I-I… uhhh," Donut responded nervously.

"How many times do I have to tell you to leave my stuff alone," Grif roared. Donut shook his head, "I did something wrong…" Simmons and Grif looked at each other in confusion.

"Where's the flag," Simmons asked loudly.

"What the fuck did you do, Donut," Grif shouted. The three of them were huddled around the center of the base, where the flag was supposed to be. In its place was a red puddle.

"I don't know what happened," Donut explained, upset, "I was mopping the floor, when suddenly the flagpole and the flag melted away!" Grif sniffed, "WHAT is that smell?"

"Oh, I was trying some new lilac-scented floor cleaner," Donut responded.

"We're in a military base. It's not supposed to smell flowery," Grif complained.

"Well, maybe if someone's socks didn't smell so bad, I wouldn't need to do something about the smell," Donut huffed, crossing his arms.

"Guys, the problem is not the smell," Simmons interjected.

"Yeah, Sarge is going to kill us," Grif stated.

"I don't think he'll go quite that far," Simmons responded. Grif gave him a look.

"He'll just kill you," Simmons continued.

"So what do we do," Donut asked.

"Seeing as Sarge is out at Command for a meeting, and SOMEONE messed up our radio tower," Simmons started saying, glaring at Grif, "We'll have to go to him."

"But what about the base," Donut asked.

"We'll leave Lopez in charge," Simmons shrugged, "Now, let's go!"

"What's going on now," Tucker asked, up on the cliff with Church.

"God dammit," Church sighed, then, "Nothing. They've just been talking." Church looked back down the sniper rifle sights. A moment passed before he turned back to Tucker, "Didn't I leave you at the base to keep an eye on Caboose?"

"What kind of trouble could he possibly get into? The Reds aren't going to do anything without Sarge around," Tucker shrugged.

"Well," Church sighed, before something caught his eye. He looked back down the sights to see Simmons, Grif, and Donut leaving the base (and canyon) in the Warthog.

"Where the hell are they going?"

"Where the hell are we going," Grif asked, driving.

"Well, according to my information, Command should be located in Central City," Simmons said, staring at a big map in his passenger seat.

"Which is where, exactly," Grif pressed.

"A long drive away," Simmons sighed.

"Why don't we have an air freshener in here? I'm thinking pine," Donut commented from the gunner position. Simmons sighed again, "A VERY long drive."

"We aren't putting an air freshener in here, Donut," Grif huffed.

"Well, why not," Donut argued.

"Uh, maybe because it wouldn't work with such an open vehicle," Grif stated.

"Yeah, Grif's right, Donut," Simmons said, turning towards Donut. Suddenly, the map flew out of his hands.

"Gah," Simmons exclaimed.

"What," Grif asked.

"Stop the Warthog," Simmons screeched. Grif stopped the vehicle as Simmons leapt out, chasing after the map. Donut followed behind while Grif watched. Simmons was about to grab it when it floated over the edge of a cliff, causing him to abruptly stop and teeter on the edge before Donut pulled him back.

"Well, fuck," Grif stated.

"How're we going to get there now," Simmons sighed.

"We could ask for directions," Donut suggested.

"Uh, no," Grif said.

"We just need to go in that direction," Simmons said, pointing.

"So, are we there yet," Donut asked.

"No," Simmons stated. Donut pointed at a tree, "That's the third time I've seen that tree."

"We aren't lost," Grif grumbled.

"Maybe we should stop and ask someone," Simmons sighed.

"I said no," Grif stated.

"We are so lost," Donut mumbled.

"We don't need—" Grif started saying. He was cut off by a loud rumble from his stomach.

"Ok, YOU guys can ask for directions while I get food," he finally agreed.

"Tucker? What are you doing," Church asked. He'd found Tucker rummaging nervously around the base.

"Me? Oh, nothing," Tucker answered.

"Uh-huh," Church said, unconvinced. He sighed and changed the subject, "Have you seen Caboose? A letter just arrived for him."

"Caboose," Tucker questioned nervously.

"Yeah, I know, right? I thought he couldn't read," Church chuckled. He took a small breath, "So where is he?"

"He, uh… We're playing hide and seek," Tucker quickly answered.

"He's missing," Church stated.

"Uh… Yeah," Tucker gave in. Church sighed.

"Ok, so if he isn't at our base, he has to be at this base," Church stated, hopeful. Him and Tucker were standing outside of Red Base.

"Think they took him prisoner," Tucker asked.

"Maybe," Church shrugged.

"So now we have to go rescue him," Tucker sighed.

"I mean, we COULD just leave him," Church suggested, "He probably already made a new friend here."

"Or is dead," Tucker muttered to himself.

"¡Detener!" Church and Tucker turned around to see Lopez pointing a rifle at them.

"Well, shit," Church said.

"Oh, wow! That was so much fun," Donut exclaimed, squirming excitedly in the passenger seat of the Warthog.

"Shut up, Donut," Simmons angrily said from the gunner position. Grif was glaring over the wheel.

"But, Simmons, it was so pretty! And the choice of flowers on such sort notice," Donut continued.

"We're not talking about," Simmons growled.

"Oh, come on! Who knew that telling someone they're a nerd would be a marriage proposal there? It was so sweet," Donut giggled. Simmons groaned.

"Oh! And the Maid of Honor's dress was just—" Donut started saying, before the Warthog came to a sudden stop, nearly throwing Simmons from the back while Donut's helmet came within inches of the dashboard.

"Huh," Donut questioned. Grif slowly turned towards Donut, before growling in his most menacing voice, "We will NEVER talk about that."

"But—" Donut started responding.

"EVER," Grif emphasized, murder in his voice. Donut immediately shut up. Grif turned forward again.

"Do you guys hear that," Simmons asked.

"Don't care," Grif growled.

"No, shh, listen," Simmons instructed. Him and Donut strained their ears for a moment.

"It sounds like its coming from the engine," Donut said, tilting his head to the side. The group hopped out of the Warthog and walked to the front. Grif popped the hood and everyone took a step back.

"What the hell," Simmons exclaimed.

"So, now what's the plan," Tucker huffed in a whisper.

"Basically, don't get caught," Church whispered back.

"Yeah, great plan, totally gets us out of here," Tucker said, the sound of his eyes rolling within his voice. Church sighed in annoyance, "Well, do you have any ideas?"

"Well, no," Tucker answered nervously. They had shoved themselves in what appeared to be the maintenance closet of Red Base after Lopez started chasing them.

"Maybe we could—" Church started thinking out loud, before shutting up at the sound of footsteps approaching. Him and Tucker stared at the door, listening to them approach and stop, before walking off.

"Hey, they have some nice fabric in here," Tucker said, caressing some red material rolled up in the back of the closet.

"Are you serious," Church asked.

"I mean, feel this stuff," Tucker said, pointing to the material. Church sighed and stroked it.

"Huh, that does feel kind of nice," he commented, "Reminds me of… something." Shaking his head, Church got over the distraction, "Anyway, how do we get out of here?"

"I don't know," Tucker shrugged. Churched sighed again, "I hope Caboose isn't stuck like we are…"

"Caboose," Donut asked, incredulous.

"Oh, uh, hi," Caboose said. Simmons, Grif, and Donut were staring under the hood of the Warthog, where Caboose found himself tangled up.

"How the hell did you get stuck in there," Grif questioned.

"I saw this open," Caboose said, pointing as best he could to the hood, "And thought: Maybe if I got in, I could drive it and talk to it just like Sheila! But there is no nice lady to talk to me…"

"What do we do," Simmons asked.

"We can't leave him in there," Grif responded, "He'll fuck up the engine." Simmons nodded, and the three grabbed and pulled Caboose out.

"Now what do we do," Donut asked.

"We could just shoot him," Grif shrugged.

"No," Donut exclaimed, "I mean, he isn't even attacking us!"

"Well, what do you want to do? Just leave him here," Grif questioned.

"I mean, we can't do that, either," Donut mumbled.

"We can't take him with us," Grif argued.

"Maybe we can," Simmons suggested.

"What," Grif questioned.

"He'll be our hostage," Simmons said, "That should help put Sarge in a better mood."

"Yeah," Donut chimed in.

"Did you see Caboose at all while we were in there," Church asked, panting heavily. Him and Tucker were in the caves along the side of the canyon, having escaped from Red Base and Lopez.

"No," Tucker panted back, "I was too busy running." Church growled loudly.

"Wait, isn't it just that robot guy right now," Tucker asked.

"Yeah, you're right," Church responded.

"Why don't we just lure him away and then we can check more easily," Tucker suggested.

"Well, ONE of us can lure him away," Church stated.

"Ok, but who? We just ran like little bitches," Tucker pointed out, "It's not like he thinks we'll be back anytime soon."

"Maybe we can trick him into thinking its someone else," Church said, giving Tucker a look.

"Well, shit…"

"We've been driving for hours," Donut moaned from the gunner position.

"I really have to pee," Caboose complained.

"Shut up now, or I'm turning this Warthog around," Grif shouted.

"Caboose, doesn't your suit just, you know," Simmons asked, back in the passenger seat. Caboose stared at him blankly.

"Never mind," Simmons muttered. Turning to Grif, he suggested, "Maybe we should stop."

"For what," Grif asked. Simmons jabbed a thumb a Caboose.

"Really? We're going to stop for a pee break for our prisoner," Grif huffed. Simmons sighed, "You have a point." Caboose started squirming.

"Why don't we stop at that city over there," Donut asked, pointing off to their left. Grif and Simmons looked as well.

"Wait, do you think that's," Grif asked.

"Hey, you," Tucker shouted from out front of Red Base, his armor covered in black stuff. Lopez turned towards him from on top.

"Yeah, Señor Doritos! I'm talking to you," Tucker continued his verbal assault.

"Okay, all we have to do is wait for him to walk down," Church muttered to himself, hiding behind a rock not far off.

"You can't catch m—" Tucker started saying when Lopez dropped off the top of the base, landing on his feet.

"Well, shit," Tucker stated, turning and running towards the caves as Lopez followed him. Church shrugged, before slipping into the base.

"Where might they be keeping Caboose," Church thought out loud to himself. He stopped and sniffed, "What the fuck is that smell? It's like a mixture of lilacs and dirty gym socks." After searching for a bit, Church radioed Tucker, "I can't find him in here."

"Well, maybe you can come help me," Tucker hissed back.

"Why? What happened," Church asked.

"You're about to find out," Tucker answered.

"Central City! We made it," Simmons exclaimed.

"Ooo! Shiny," Caboose said.

"Everything is so tall," Donut commented with awe.

"So where's Command," Grif asked.

"I think he said it was in the middle or something," Simmons thought out loud.

"So we deliver the prisoner first, right," Grif asked.

"Yes," Simmons said, turning to Caboose. Who was now gone.

"Uh, Donut," Simmons asked.

"What," Donut asked, staring up at the buildings.

"Where did Caboose go," Simmons asked. Donut quickly looked back down.

"Uh oh," he said.

"You lost our prisoner," Grif shouted, turning towards Donut.

"Grif, look out," Simmons shouted. Grif turned back and yanked the wheel to the side just in time to avoid hitting a soldier in gray and yellow armor.

"Grif! You need to watch where you're driving," Simmons heckled.

"What the fuck was that about," the soldier asked, scratching his head and watching the Warthog speed off down the road.

"Sir! What are you doing out here," an orderly questioned furiously.

"I'm fine," the soldier answered.

"I was specifically told to 'not allow Agent Washington', ahem, you, 'outside'," the orderly huffed, "You're on bed rest until you recover. Do you even know what day it is?"

"Tuesday," Washington answered.

"We don't even use that calendar here," the orderly stated, shaking their head. Washington sighed before following the orderly back inside.

Church looked down from the top of Red Base. Below him, Lopez was dragging Tucker behind him.

"Tucker, what the fuck happened," Church shouted.

"What the fuck do you think," Tucker shouted back.

"I swear," Church muttered under his breath. He aimed his sniper rifle at Lopez.

"No," Tucker shouted nervously.

"What? Why not," Church shouted in confusion.

"I don't need to get shot," Tucker responded.

"I'm not going to shoot you, I'm going to shoot him," Church argued.

"And when was the last time you hit your target," Tucker questioned. Church glanced around nervously, then lowered the rifle, "Fine! What are your terms?"

"No hay términos. Usaré tu trampa para salir de este lugar," Lopez stated.

"Ah, shit, right," Church said.

"Say something in Spanish," Tucker shouted.

"I don't fucking speak Spanish," Church shouted back.

"Well, do SOMETHING," Tucker said.

"Like what? Make him a taco," Church questioned. Tucker shrugged.

"Encuentro eso bastante ofensivo," Lopez said.

"Are we lost again," Donut asked.

"No, we're fine," Grif said.

"We could always stop for—" Donut started saying.

"We will never ask for directions. Ever. Again," Grif growled.

"If only our radio tower hadn't been damaged," Simmons sighed.

"I told you: It wasn't me," Grif stated.

"Oh, really? Then why was there soda spilled all over the inside," Simmons retorted, "I opened it up to check on it and walk away for a few minutes, and when I came back it was fried. By soda!"

"Why would I go in there," Grif questioned.

"I don't know," Simmons answered, "But it was definitely soda, I tasted it."

"Even though it might not have been," Donut questioned.

"Well," Simmons answered, scratching his chin.

"What do I do," Church muttered to himself. Lopez pointed a rifle at him, "¡Rendición!"

"Crap," Church said. Suddenly, Caboose barreled into Lopez.

"Run," Church shouted as Lopez was knocked down. All three members of Blue Team hightailed it across the canyon back to their base. Panting and out of breath, Church said, "Caboose! There you are!"

"Holy shit, you saved our asses," Tucker exclaimed. Caboose was doing a weird dance while chanting, "Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom." Church sighed, "How many times do I have to tell you, just go behind the rock."

"Wait, which rock," Tucker questioned.

"But, I found a shiny sparkly bathroom," Caboose said.

"Where the fuck was that," Church asked.

"Oh, you know, the Reds. But it got all sparky and electrically when I used it," Caboose shrugged. Church sighed, "Just, go use the rock."

"WHICH ROCK," Tucker questioned again.

"Is this it," Simmons asked himself, as Grif stopped the Warthog in front of a big building.

"It is the biggest building around, so why not," Grif shrugged.

"Well, it doesn't say what it's for," Donut stated.

"Why the fuck would it," Grif argued, "They're not going to put 'RED TEAM COMMAND CENTER' right where anyone can read it!"

"No," Simmons stated, as he pointed to the front doors, "But they will let everyone in red armor just walk in and out like its no big deal." They realized that everyone going through the front was wearing some shade of red armor.

"Because that doesn't look suspicious or anything," Grif said, rolling his eyes.

"What do we do now," Donut asked.

"I guess we go inside and ask around," Simmons shrugged.

"What in Sam Hill are all of you doing here," a gruff voice asked from the top of the front steps. The three turned to see one of the soldiers in standard-issue red armor walking quickly down the stairs towards them.

"Sarge," Simmons and Donut exclaimed.

"Shit," Grif muttered under his breath.

"Why, might I ask, are you not back at the base," Sarge questioned as he reached them.

"Well, you see-," Simmons started saying. Donut's wail cut him off, "I accidently melted the flag, sir!"

"You—what," Sarge asked.

"The flag's just a puddle of goo," Simmons said, "We don't really know how, but it is!" Sarge just stared at them.

"Sir," Simmons asked.

"Grif, when we get back, you're doing 20 laps around the canyon for being such a goddamn idiot," Sarge stated.

"What? But I-," Grif started arguing.

"30," Sarge growled. Grif groaned, but shut up.

"Now, you boys didn't melt no flag," Sarge stated, "Just a decoy I'd constructed."

"A decoy," Donut questioned to himself.

"Made of what," Simmons asked.

"Why, sugar, of course," Sarge exclaimed.

"Oh," Simmons said thoughtfully.

"Where is the real flag," Donut asked.

"I hid it real well, boys," Sarge said with a wink, "Material's real nice to the touch, too. Wouldn't mind making a pair of pants out of that stuff one day, mah-self."

"So, the flag's ok? Great! Can we go home now," Grif said.

"Wait, if y'all are here, then who's guarding the base," Sarge asked.

"Oh, Lopez is," Donut said.

"Y'all left one man to guard the base against a three-man team," Sarge questioned.

"Well, Lopez IS a robot," Simmons shrugged, "And we did take one of the Blues hostage."

"Ya did," Sarge asked, incredulous, "Where is he?"

"Well," Simmons said nervously, "We lost him."

"You, what," Sarge asked angrily, before yelling, "Goddammit Grif!"

"Donut was supposed to be watching him, so it's not my fault," Grif argued.

"First, ya leave Lopez on his own against a whole team. Then, ya lose a prisoner. Let's just get back to the base, where I can at least enjoy the musky smell of war," Sarge grumbled in disappointment. Grif gave Donut a look.

"Ah," Donut murmured.

Lopez stood in the middle of Red Base. After the Blues had run off, he'd repaired the radio tower, cleaned up the place, put the flag back in it's stand, and incinerated Grif's socks.

"Finalmente, tranquilo," Lopez said to himself, "No tengo que preocuparme por esos idiotas por un tiempo."

"Oh, hey! The radio tower is working again," Simmons's voice suddenly said over the radio. Lopez sighed.

"We're about five minutes out, Lopez," Simmons's voice stated.

"Just hold tight til we get there," Sarge's voice commanded.

"Dios maldita sea," Lopez stated.


End file.
